“I’m going to move back to Port Skelton,” Archer continued, clearly not wanting to dwell on his family’s history any longer.
“What’s there to do in Port Skelton?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I was thinking of doing my own thing.”
“Like?”
“Like maybe I’ll find some other people. I can form a group—guys who need a place to belong. Guys who are tired of feelingpowerless and maybe interested in taking some of that power back? We can protect each other from people like my dad.”
“So… a gang?”
“It’s not a gang.”
“Sounds like a gang.”
“It’s not.”
“Okay,” I conceded, because I could see this for what it was. Archer was scared, and I didn’t blame him. With a family like his, like both of ours, you didn’t want to be on their bad side.
“So, will you join me?”
“Your gang?”
“Nota gang.”
I huffed. “Do I have to sell drugs, or break the kneecaps of people who owe you money?”
“It isn’t a gang, Harp.”
“I’m teasing.” I nudged his shoulder with mine, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll join your not-a-gang.”
“It isn’t.”
“That’s what I said.”
He rolled his eyes at me, but his lips twitched up in a crooked half smile.
“What will we be called?”
“It’s not a gang, it doesn’t need a name,” he groaned.
“If you don’t name us, someone else will.”
“Let them.”
four
Harper – Age 24
THE MASTER.
Another birthday, another party filled with faces that might as well be masks. Jarred had brought his new fiancée to this one. She seemed nice, and he seemed genuinely happy. It shouldn’t have hurt. I’d held onto this crush for years, but I didn’t actually know him. I’d just watched him from a distance all this time.
It was past time for me to move on.
I wouldn’t spend another party, or annual trip, watching him from the shadows.
I’d been flipping the card between my fingers for the last twenty minutes: the one Tristan had given me exactly six years ago. There were times I’d considered calling the number, just to see what would happen.
